


The Games We Play

by Anonymous



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Spot is a tease and Race loves/loathes him for it





	The Games We Play

Race was, to say the least, upset.

The day had started as usual, buying his papers in Manhattan and then setting off to the bridge, his mind running wild with the thoughts of his bets at Sheepshead. Yet, when he arrived, another boy was there, hawking the headline, bringing in all of Race’s customers. 

Race hadn’t meant to cause such a scene, arguing with the boy and all, but this was his. Spot had given only Race permission to sell here, but when the boy countered that he was told by Spot himself to sell at Sheepshead, Race’s mind swarmed. 

Marching around Brooklyn, selling out of the eyesight of other newsies, Race finally made his way to the lodging house, marching up the stairs to Spot’s room. Without even knocking, Race burst in, breathing heavy as he prepared his angry speech. 

Spot’s mouth twitched as he looked up from the table, his glare a challenge as Race shut the door behind him. 

“Sheepshead is mine,” Race spoke through gritted teeth, slamming one last paper onto the table in front of Spot. “What’s that kid doing there?”

“I gave you Sheepshead,” Spot began, too calm and collected. “But I didn’t mean exclusively.”

Race shook his head, a heavy breath exhaled through his nostrils. “Then why did you have me do that extra work if it wasn’t mine alone? Why all the goddamn hoops?”

Spot let out a low whistle and leaned back in his chair. “Had to be sure I could trust you, Racer.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that right now.”

“Oh?”

With that, Race shot around the table, grabbing Spot by his shirt and dragging him to his feet. “What kind of game are you playing at?”

“None,” Spot shrugged, his face, eyes shining with innocence and Race knew immediately what Spot wanted. 

“Bastard,” Race spat out before slamming his lips against Spot’s, earning a small noise from Spot. 

Pushing Spot back against the table, Race bit down on his neck, intent on leaving a mark as he nursed the area amidst Spot’s shortness of breath. Letting his hands search, Race tore the suspenders from Spot’s shoulders and rid him quickly of his top, his mouth trailing down to Spot’s chest. Spot let out a pleasant sigh and Race swirled his tongue around one of Spot’s nipples. Before Spot could touch his hair, Race moved back up, his mouth barely touching Spot’s. 

“Should just leave you like this. Make you figure out how to pleasure yourself for the night,” he whispered. 

Spot shuddered, his usual brashness suddenly gone and Race took this to his advantage. “Well?” he gestured. “Prove to me that I should stay.”

Without another word, Spot shot down to his knees, shaking hands working at the buttons on Race’s trousers. Once Race’s cock was free, Spot took a slow lick up his length and Race bit back a moan. Spot then took Race into his mouth, tongue swirling around as he bobbed his head. Race couldn’t help thrusting his hips forward and the two fell into a steady rhythm. As Spot sped up, Race moved suddenly, causing Spot to pull off his cock with a cough. 

“Sorry, love,” Race murmured, easing Spot back up to his feet. 

Spot shook his head, signaling he was okay and Race took over again, spinning Spot around and pushing him against the table. 

“Lean over it,” Race commanded. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Once Spot did as Race asked, Race reached around Spot’s waist, undoing his trousers and pulling everything down in one swift motion. Spot shivered at the sudden exposure and Race pressed himself against Spot, nails digging into his hips. Race moved his cock in between Spot’s legs, moving back and forth as Spot let out small moans of desperation. 

“Now,” Race spoke close to Spot’s ear. “Who gets to sell at Sheepshead?”

He could hear, feel, Spot swallow, but no reply came and Race slapped Spot’s ass. Spot was biting his lip, stifling his noises and Race reached around, fingers brushing against Spot’s cock. 

“I can’t hear you,” Race teased again. 

“You,” Spot said in a strangled voice. “Only you. God, Race, just do it already.”

Licking a stripe up Spot’s neck, Race pulled back to get the lubrication and once his fingers were coated, he shoved one into Spot. Spot let out a rather heavy moan and Race covered his mouth with his hand, easing his finger in and out. 

“Can’t let the whole lodging house know about us,” Race chided, shoving another finger in. “What would they say, knowing their great, fearless leader sleeps under me?”

Spot’s pleasure only seemed to heighten with this and as Race stretched him open with three fingers, he watched as Spot’s hands started to lift. 

“None of that now,” Race pulled his fingers from out of Spot and pushed Spot down onto the wooden surface. 

Spot said nothing, only watching him with curious eyes as his upper body lay against the table, his hands hanging over the edge. Undoing their suspenders from their trousers, Race then tied Spot’s wrists to the table legs, leaving Spot exposed and unable to move his arms. 

Spot ducked his head down, a low moan leaving him and Race removed his trousers, then coating up his cock. He leaned down, pressing a kiss in the middle of Spot’s back before pushing himself in, slowly, as he gauged Spot’s shaking body. He heard a hiss of pain and he massaged Spot’s legs before preparing to push in more. 

“You’re taking too long,” Spot murmured and Race was sure he wasn’t meant to hear that. 

He grinned, pulling out of Spot before slamming back in. Spot almost let out a cry, but he held it down to a growl, his head resting on the table. Race copied the same motion again and again, pressing his chest against Spot’s back and covering his mouth. 

“I’ll have to do something about that mouth of yours next time,” Race panted as his movements sped up. “Not that I don’t love every noise that comes out of you.”

Spot whimpered and sighed against Race’s hand, his restraints tightening as he tried to pull up. Race did his best to ignore it, focusing on their moving hips, the heated feeling in his stomach. Spot came first with a muffled scream against Race’s hand and Race fell victim shortly after, hiding his groan in Spot’s shoulder. The two collected themselves, the room hot and stifling before Race pulled out and finally undid Spot’s ties. 

Helping Spot to the bed, Race laid him down before opening a window, letting the cool night air in. 

“How are you?” Race settled down next to Spot, brushing away the hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Excellent,” Spot sighed, his eyes closed as he curled into Race.

Their legs tangled together and Race wrapped an arm around Spot. “Sorry to get all worked up about it. Thought you were trying to kick me out is all.”

Spot snorted, tucking his head under Race’s chin. “Would never do that. I just wanted to have some fun.”

“What? My company ain’t enough for you?”

This earned Race a smack on his shoulder and a smile from Spot. The two met in a tender kiss, holding onto each other as if it was their last night. Race was thankful it wasn’t as he thought over Spot’s antics, what else might come. 

If this was what Spot wanted, Race certainly wasn’t one to deny him that.


End file.
